


new york has a lump in her throat

by Anonymous



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's January when Tabitha tells them she's expecting a baby.
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy, Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy/Tabitha
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

It's January when Tabitha tells them she's expecting a baby, her youth and hardiness making her a perfect candidate for some friends whose adoption plans never came to fruition. Roman hadn’t heard from or laid eyes on her since they’d flown back from Scotland and was surprised when his new assistant — Brian,of the business kindergarten variety — forwarded her invitation to dinner via email one frigid afternoon. 

After checking with Gerri and rearranging both of their schedules, Roman had agreed to meet Tabitha at an old haunt of theirs in East Harlem. He remembered how she had liked the food and he had liked the exclusivity and the privacy of the high-back booths. 

It was the hope that Gerri might like their drinks that sealed the deal.

“I’m happy for you two.” Sitting across from them, sipping a water in one hand and absently tracing the outline of a menu with the other, Tabitha shows off that luminous, toothy smile. It’s far too early for her to don a pregnancy glow — though, nonetheless, Roman thinks she looks radiant.

“You don’t have to say that if you don’t mean it,” Gerri says, draining her second dirty martini. Her voice the entire evening has been softer, quieter than usual. She’d barely said anything in the car and Roman had to resort to fiddling with the hems of her clothes to get a reaction. He knew she was nervous from the start and that bothered him. He and Tabitha had always been nothing more than ‘eunuch besties,’ she’d said so herself in front of Gerri at Plymouth Rock. 

Still, Roman could appreciate that married life thus far had offered them no shortage of obstacles and difficulties both personally and professionally. For months, they had been deep in corporate litigation as a result of Kendall's theatrics on TV having compelled respective agencies to open investigations into Waystar and its executives. Roman had lost track of the amount of times Gerri had been made to give depositions and how many nights she’d stayed up late, hunched over her laptop in their bed while he begged and pleaded with her to close it down and cuddle with him.

They hadn’t been able to move into their jointly purchased penthouse until the week before Christmas. In lieu of time, they’d had to settle for furniture, artwork and various accessories chosen by a decorator seemingly with some other couple in mind. It was then that Roman had been most thankful that they’d already made a home for each other, in each other. 

“I do mean it,” Tabitha says warmly. “Roman needed more than I could give him, more than I was willing to give him, even. Besides, I wouldn’t have been able to do this if we’d stayed together."  She leans back in the booth to reveal her slightly rounded stomach, just barely visible beneath her clothes. " I’m in charge of growing a human.” 

“Or,” Roman’s eyes are alight with mischief and Gerri groans, already agitated by what he’s about to say. “It’s one of those fucking petri-dish, two-headed sheep they are always trying to grow in laboratories. You’re probably a science experiment now.” 

“It could come out of my womb with little cloven hooves and instead of crying out, it could,” Tabitha proceeds to bleat, making Roman throw his head back ecstatically. “Like in, what was it, Rosemary’s Baby? I could be the mother of the devil.” 

“She already exists.” Gerri fights it but ultimately a smirk plants itself on her face. She plucks an olive out of her glass and pops it into her mouth. “I believe you’ve met Caroline Collingwood, haven’t you?”

“Touché!” Roman concedes, Gerri and Tabitha laughing together at his expense. 

It’s over breadsticks that Tabitha walks them through the embryo transfer process. Naturally, Roman has a million questions and would prefer them all answered in gory detail. She gives updates on the status of her consulting firm as well as if it'll be possible for her to retire from it soon. After the main course arrives, she and Roman banter back and forth with stories they’ve heard about Kendall and Naomi’s benders. All the while, Gerri sits, intently listening and nodding politely when required.

She doesn’t interject much at all until Tabitha inquires about their wedding.

Married at City Hall, Gerri had preferred to do the deed quickly and without fanfare so as to avoid any press. She had worn a tailored, ivory dress suit. Roman had combed his hair but forwent gel for the occasion. Brian, Connor and Willa served as witnesses and afterwards the three fêted them in Connor’s presidential suite with decanted wine and pizza, which had been Brian’s contribution.

Roman gets Tabitha in hysterics when he recounts how Gerri had wine-boarded herself and spent the rest of their wedding night challenging him to a console game she didn’t know how to play or even how to turn on, as he’d found out later when they’d gotten back to his place.

“I can’t imagine you playing video games, Gerri.”

“It was fucking funny!” It’s both one of Roman’s fondest memories and Gerri’s only embarrassing story. It makes his heart swell and laughter come from deep in his belly every chance he gets to reminisce about it.

“I didn’t eat anything before the ceremony and I didn’t want to get pizza sauce on my suit, so,” Gerri grumbles, twirling a pasta noodle onto her fork. “I sobered up eventually.”

“Oh, yeah, she did.” Roman wiggles his eyebrows suggestively with Gerri nearly choking on her food at his side. “What? You did! We had a great night. We did the sex _so_ well.”

“Roman!” Gerri scolds him, dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

“I’m sad I missed it. Not the sex part — although that might've been thrilling — but the wedding. Roman and I were really great friends once and you were always kind to me.”

At the mention of his friendship with Tabitha, Roman glances over at Gerri. Though she’d never said as much, he thought she hadn't been entirely comfortable with how their relationship had unfolded where Tabitha was concerned. In hindsight, proposing to his dad’s general counsel before breaking up with his model girlfriend hadn't been his finest moment. He reasoned there must be a gnawing in the back of Gerri's mind questioning why it had ever occurred to him to do so in the first place.

A response is forming on the tip of Gerri’s tongue when her phone begins to ring.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back." She says, seeming scattered, brows furrowed. 

“She’s been working non-stop.” Roman sighs, trying not to check out her ass as she makes her way outside. He waits until he can’t see her anymore before he goes about rearranging the half-emptied plates waiting to be cleared by their waiter. “And I think she feels weird, you know, about the cheating? Which makes me feel like shit because technically, of course, it’s all my fault. I am sorry about that, by the way.”

“Roman, I said it’s okay!” Tabitha waves him off, that charming smile of hers never fading. “You did try to tell me at Naomi’s. I thought you were joking.”

“See, that’s why we didn’t work.” He playfully rolls his big hazel eyes at her. “You never took me seriously.” 

“To be fair, you never gave me a reason to take you seriously.” There’s a world in which Roman could feel offended by this truth but he knows she’s right, knows he wasn’t the best version of himself when he was with her.He simply nods at her, doesn’t draw his shoulders up by his ears like he might have even six months ago. Tabitha continues, “You look the happiest I’ve ever seen you look, Ro. It’s clear you love her a whole lot.” 

“Fuck off!” He grins broadly — sharp canines peering out at her — and reaches for one of her hands that’s resting on the table. He gives it a few reassuring, good natured pats. “You look happy too. I mean, considering Dolly the Sheep is about to stomp its way out of your vagina in, like, six months. Good luck with that.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s mid-March when Tabitha phones Roman to say she’s had a falling out with the friends she agreed to grow a human for. 

Over a game of Monopoly, a fight began that devolved into tales of how she’d given the husband a blowjob at a party several years ago — a fact he’d failed to mention to the wife. In an attempt to diffuse the situation, Tabitha had attempted to even the score by admitting to a hot but meaningless bit of sex she’d had with the wife a few months after that — a fact she’d failed to mention to the husband.

Tabitha shows up at Roman and Gerri’s place while they are having dinner, PGM on in the background. A news anchor sits stone-faced, reading a teleprompter and rattling off a list of rather confusing travel restrictions — effective imminently — for Americans intending to travel overseas.

“Frank says this is just the beginning.” Gerri flicks off the television, resolute.

Roman scowls, more at the idea of Gerri speaking to Frank Vernon than of the rest of Brightstar Cruises potentially going under due to government mandate. She ignores him and has her phone out in a flash, shooting off a text message to her assistant about upcoming appointments she’ll have to delay.

She takes a few more minutes to get her affairs in order before tucking her phone into a couch cushion and turning her attention back on Tabitha who sits across from her in a high-back chair, drinking camomile tea. “So, you say they’ve threatened you with a lawsuit? On what grounds, exactly? You’re still planning to peaceably give them their baby, right?” 

“Of course. I’m not an asshole.” Tabitha pauses to let Roman scoff or make a dumb joke but he doesn’t, which surprises her. “I guess they just want to legally dictate how I spend the remaining months of my pregnancy.”

“You know,” Roman gets up from his place on the sofa and begins collecting his and Gerri’s carry-out containers to take into the kitchen. “They say it takes nine months to grow a baby but it’s more like ten.”

“Oh, really?” Tabitha squints and lifts an eyebrow. “You learn that on one of your true crime programs? A truly incendiary episode of _Snapped_ , perhaps?”

“He bought a book, actually.” It’s almost inscrutable but Gerri’s eyes are full of mirth behind her glasses and Roman knows by her tone, as he re-enters the living room, that she’s proud of him for it.“What to Expect When You’re Expecting. He’s been using my post-its to bookmark all the unpleasant shit.”

“You see, I’m not pathologically incurious.” He smirks directly at Tabitha.

An hour passes with Gerri walking her through a few possible legal options. Roman tunes in and out, mostly playing on his phone, occasionally giving his two cents on their plan of attack when he thinks of something clever to say. He marvels at Gerri using the tone with Tabitha she employs on her twin daughters over the phone sometimes, trying to nudge them in the direction of how best to win a case or consult a politician. Otherwise, he’s fairly still and spends time noticing how Tabitha’s body is starting to look like a snake got a small boulder lodged in it’s mid-section.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Gerri asks later, as they walk Tabitha to the elevator, having exhausted the legality of surrogacy for one night. She promises to have her assistant put Tabitha on to better lawyers by Monday. “I mean, with the virus? You should be careful.” 

“That’s sweet, Gerri, but I’m going to stay with my parents in Montauk.” 

“Well, you’ll call if you need anything, right? If you get lonely or need Gerri, personally, to fuck up those greedy fucking baby beggars?” 

“Yup.” Tabitha leans down to hug Gerri first, squeezing her lithe arms tightly around her shoulders. It seems like a long while before she lets go.

“Hey — keep reading that book.” She makes a bit of a show of having to bend her knees to hug Roman. He rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out in annoyance but accepts her embrace regardless. “You might end up having to be my birthing coach.”

It’s late April when Tabitha’s parents pass away from Coronavirus complications — a week apart. Her father first, then her mother. There’s a funeral with strict social distancing, practically no one allowed to attend aside from their family pastor and her siblings. Gerri and Roman send flowers from Putnam & Putnam, some avant garde arrangement of wildflowers which Gerri felt was entirely inappropriate for the occasion but Roman insisted Tabitha would like. 

“They aren’t joking when they say mask it or casket, huh?” Scrolling through the photos sent by the florists on his phone, his body in the now familiar position of being stretched out on a sofa, Gerri snug beside him.

“That’s not funny, Roman.” Gerri sounds more bored than disappointed. He’s made about a dozen similar comments in the last two months and never once has she found them amusing. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to act.” He sounds wholly exasperated but it’s the truth. He hadn’t known how to act when he had received news that his father, Logan Roy, had tested positive last month. Though for better or worse, Logan had proven only mildly symptomatic — likely through sheer force of will. 

He hadn’t known how to act when sadly, others in their lives hadn’t been so fortunate. Old college friends and law school buddies of Gerri’s had either passed or been made infirm by the virus. Roman had gotten word that rivals of his in California had become statistics. 

“We should ask her to stay with us in the Hamptons.” Gerri puts down her iPad and maneuvers her body to get a good look at him. Her blue eyes are wide, her expression open. 

There are plans to leave the city indefinitely in a few days. A house had come on the market once belonging to some departed Kennedy that seemed suitable for them to hunker down. The house appeared — at least online — to include six bedrooms, a garden for Gerri to putter around in and an olympic-sized pool, which had been Roman’s only real prerequisite. 

“I don’t know, Ger.” Roman grimaces, waving a hand through his dark hair. “It’s almost been a year since we’ve left the city. I was hoping we could, you know, spend some time alone — avoiding the plague, without work or any other distractions.” 

Gerri leans towards him to give him an open mouth kiss. Roman makes a surprised little sound in his throat. It’s brief and there isn’t much intention behind it but the caterpillars he has for eyebrows start dancing around his forehead nonetheless. For all their months of wedded bliss, it’s still a rare treat for Gerri to make the first move. 

“We’ll call her tomorrow.” She says, abruptly turning her back on him and shifting to her original position burrowed in at his side. She picks up her iPad and begins to pluck at the touch screen, likely typing an email to her assistant to make last minute preparations for their trip.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Roman rubs his cheek against the top of her head, taking a big whiff of her hair as he does so. He still thinks it’s a terrible idea and that having Tabs might put a damper on any future intimacy. But whatever Gerri wants, he sees that Gerri gets and if Gerri wants to play house with an idiot, a giraffe and a fetus — then he’ll do anything to make that happen.

“Uh-huh.”

It's June when Tabitha finally just moves in with them. It’s a last resort really. She can’t bear to stay in her parents home any longer, doesn’t want to be alone there without them. Even with New York beginning to pick up the pieces, she can’t say that it would be wise to return to the city either. Kendall and Naomi offered her a bedroom but she doesn’t want to live in a crack den. And she outright refuses to stay with the baby beggars — despite the fact that they seem to have calmed down about litigation, though she wonders how much of that is their lawyers closing up shop due to COVID-19. 

On her first night in East Hampton, she climbs into bed with them.

“Are you… lost, Tabs?” Roman jolts up, twisting his body to see over Gerri where Tabitha has delved under a blanket, facing them. His hair is a wreck but he’s glad suddenly that he decided to wear sleep shorts and a t-shirt to bed rather than his birthday suit, which is what he prefers on summer nights. 

“Shut up, Rome.” Gerri shushes, all sleepy. He knows she can’t see well without her glasses but he hadn’t realized she’s blind until he watches her hand pat it’s way to what he thinks _she_ thinks is Tabitha’s back. He’s wrong, of course, when it dawns on him that she meant to settle her palm on Tabitha’s stomach, low by her belly button, stroking soothingly. 

It feels almost like he’s intruding on something so he settles back down, resting his head on his pillow for a few minutes. His heart is racing, thinking about what to say or do. He’s about to reach over, turn on the light and have a discussion about boundaries and non-consensual threesomes when he hears Tabitha sniffling. 

“It’s okay.” Gerri murmurs comfortingly, though her voice sounds thicker than she means it to because she’s barely awake. “We’re glad you’re here.” 

A wave of sentimentality rushing over him, Roman rolls over on his side. He’s nearly forty years old with both parents still alive. All his siblings, though irritating as fuck, still vibrant and healthy the last he’d checked. He drapes an arm over Gerri and buries his face in the crook of her neck. It takes a few shoulder joint extensions but he eventually reaches far enough, comfortably, to Gerri’s hand where it rests now on Tabitha’s belly. 

"Love you guys." He knows it's unnecessary and sounds stupid but it’s the only thought left in his head before they all drift off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my beta for all her help with this. you da best.


End file.
